Sad Eyes
by MoreCowbell
Summary: Tsukushi was never redtagged, Tsukasa was never kicked in the face, and they never fell in love. They meet for the first time on graduation day.


Sad Eyes  
by Trish 

This is my first completed Hanadan fanfiction. I think it's weird, but I don't hate it. The basic set up is that Makiko didn't fall down the stairs in the first episodechapter, so Tsukushi never had to stick up for her.

The F4 are actually a grade higher than Tsukushi, but for the sake of this story they're in the same grade.

Hanadan doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Leaning against the balcony railing at the emergency staircase, there's a girl. Her hair is brown and wavy, and she's wearing a plain white dress. Pooling at her feet is the gold, Eitoku Gakuen graduation gown. She's facing the sky so all I can see is the back of her.

I don't think I know who she is.

"You're not supposed to be here," I say, because it's the only thing I can think of. Other guys are better at this. They would ask her what she was looking at. I want to know what she's looking at too, but I can't ask her that, because I'm not supposed to be the type of guy that cares.

She doesn't turn around to face me, which I find rude. And I know she heard what I said, because her back stiffened the moment I spoke. But she's still not turning around.

"Of course I'm not supposed to be here," her voice is soft and quiet, "That's what I've been saying all along. But it's not up to me."

She's not talking about the emergency stairs, and I tell her so, but of course she already knows that.

"This is the only place in this entire school that I've ever felt anything remotely close to happiness. So please, even if I shouldn't be here right now, just let me stay?" she asks, pleadingly, "Just for a little while longer?"

And she finally turns to look at me. The part of her face not hidden by the shadows of the trees is bathed in pale moonlight. Her eyes are brown and sad. They look kind of familiar. But she doesn't.

She's really pretty, I decide. Even though her eyes are dim, and her face is round, and she's got the figure of a thirteen year old boy. There's something about her that really appeals to me. So I walk over to where she's still leaning. I think she's drunk. Everyone's a little bit drunk tonight. Even me, but I think my head's clearing up.

I'm standing next to her now. My arms are keeping me steady against the railing. She's gone back to not looking at me. And I look with her; straight ahead. All I see is endless blue-black, lined with barely visible specks of light. The moon is full. It's kind of a romantic sight...

"Do I know you?" I ask her, wanting to know why I can't get her eyes out of my head.

There's silence, and then, "No."

"Do you know me?" She has to know me. Everybody knows me. But it doesn't seem like she knows me. She would have run screaming down the emergency steps in fear if she did. That, or flirt shamelessly with me.

"I know you," she answers, confidently. There's this edge in her voice. She sounds kind of angry. What the hell's her problem? "Doumyouji Tsukasa, of course I know you. I won't ever, _ever_ be able to forget you." If she'd said it nicer, I would have been flattered. Or else I would have ignored her. Sometimes I can't stand compliments, though I need to hear them all the time. I know that doesn't make sense.

"Let me guess," I scratch my chin as I try to figure out exactly what I did to this girl to make her hate me, "You had a huge crush on me, and I never paid any attention to you, right?"

Instead of answering, she bends her knees slightly. Her hand drops down from the railing to her feet. What is she... Is she taking off her shoe? Next thing I know, I'm being hit repeatedly by a white pump.

"O-oww, oww! Shit! What the hell are you doing?" I ask, not trying to stop her, because I have a feeling she'll try to stab me with the heel if I try to touch her. All I can do is yell at her until she decides I've had enough of a beating.

"Idiot," she says, her voice pure venom, "Do you just naturally assume that every girl is attracted to you?"

"With a face and a body like mine, why shouldn't I?" It's the worst thing I could have said, so of course I said it. Thankfully, she doesn't start assaulting me again. She just narrows her eyes.

I said her eyes were dim before. But not when she's angry. When she's angry, they flare up and sparkle, and she looks breathtaking.

"You," her tone is dripping with disgust, "You're the reason I've been miserable at this school for the past three years."

"You just told me that I don't know you!" I snap, feeling compelled to defend myself against this... this _girl_, "How could I have made you miserable if I'd never even spoken to you before? Just how drunk are you?"

"Not that drunk at all," to prove this, she pushes herself off the balcony railing. She has surprisingly good balance. But she still doesn't make any sense to me, so I'm not convinced she's not wasted.

Her pale, tiny hands are clutching the railing tightly. Her knuckles are white. I can tell that she's trembling with anger. But she's not showing it on her face, and that in some ways is even scarier. You never know when people like that are going to snap.

"I wanted to say something," her voice is shaking, "For three years. I wanted to say something. But I was afraid. I was afraid of you, and your friends, and your money, and the way you make people do things they don't want to do." There's a shimmer of light in her eyes. Tears, I think. "So I just kept quiet. For three whole years. I've hated myself for three years. And it's all _your_ fault!"

I expect a slap across the face. Not that I deserve it. Girls just seem to enjoy doing that. Guys do it too. But we don't enjoy it. I don't enjoy it. So I screw my eyes shut and wait for her to hit me, so I can go ahead and play the part of evil, heartless bastard. She's already graduated with me, so I can't exactly redtag her. If there was a crowd, I'd hit her back for appearance, even though it wouldn't settle right in my stomach. But it's just the two of us. Maybe I'll call her some names and threaten her. Just to get it through her head that she can't go around hitting the heir to the Doumyouji Corporation just because she's all liquored up.

Why haven't I been slapped yet?

Slowly I pry one eye open. Her fist is hovering literally centimeters away from my face. Her entire hand is shaking, and her face is wet with tears. She was able to control herself at the very last second. I'm impressed. I know I would have just gone for it. But then again, I can get away with that sort of thing.

I have the feeling that if she hadn't stopped herself, I would be nursing a very, very painful bruise right now.

"... Not your fault," her voice is a hushed whisper, "It's not your fault," she says again, slowly retracting her fist. She starts to wipe furiously at her tear-stained cheeks, "Sorry. I'm really sorry. It is your fault. But it isn't. I mean... I should have said something. Really. Even though you were the cause of it all, I should have said something. It's my fault..." By this point, she's just babbling.

I usually have some kind of egotistical, rude response to everything. More often than not, it'll include a famous saying that I don't remember exactly right. But I don't know what to say to her. She's a really emotional drunk. She seems kind of weird too.

How did a girl like her get into Eitoku? She's so... _Unsophisticated_. Classy girls don't drink themselves stupid. They don't start ranting unintelligibly. They aren't violent and short tempered.

She reminds me of 'neechan, except 'neechan did all those things and still managed to be sophisticated. There's something different about this girl.

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

I snap out of my thoughts to see the drunk girl glaring at me intensely. Her eyes are menacing and accusing. I suppose sometime after she started babbling incoherently she said something of some importance that I missed. Now she's _really_ upset.

"Not really. Say it again?"

"I said," and she's puffed up her chest real big, pounding her fist against her heart like she's about to do something brave, "That I have to tell you something really important. It's three years or so late, but I need to say it or else I'll regret it for the rest of my life!"

I'm about to tell her that I'm not interested in anything she has to say, when she suddenly slaps her hand over my mouth. Her eyes are fiery and she's got a ridiculous pout spread across her face. She looks so adorable that I'm tempted to just take her in my arms. Although, with my luck, she'd probably start beating me with her shoe again.

"Don't try and interrupt me, Froggy Boy!"

Froggy Boy? What the hell? This girl must have some vision problems, because I'm the best looking guy at this school. There's nothing remotely 'froggish' about me. But I can't tell her this, because she's still got her hand plastered across my lips.

"I really, really hate you. I hate how you bully people and make them do whatever you want. And I hate how I was a part of that! I hate how you made me lower my head whenever you walked past me. I hate how you made me look away while you beat the crap out of one of my classmates. I hate how you think you're so great just because you have an obscenely large amount of money. News flash, Brat! None of that money is yours! It's your rich daddy's! You've never had to work a day in your life. Also, I hate your hair. It's stupid. And I hate that you think you can do whatever you want. A guy like you really needs to learn some self-control. Ugh, and I especially hate that smirk thing you do!"

She finally releases her hand from my mouth... Only to move them to my cheeks, as she stretches them to demonstrate aforementioned, hated smirk. I don't know why, but I can't move. I can't do anything. Under normal circumstances, I'd have just knocked her out. Girl or not, I don't let people talk to me that way. But I can't even raise a hand against her...

"I'm leaving now," she announces, gathering in her arms her graduation gown and cap, "You can chase after me, and do whatever you think you have to do to reclaim your pride. I don't care. I've said my peace, and I feel really good. So I'm gonna be okay no matter what you do to me..." Her eyes darken, "Unless it's perverted. If you try to do anything perverted to me, I'm going to do something extremely unpleasent with these high heels."

The alcohol seems to finally have affected her balance. Her trek to the door is wobbly and unsteady, but she's able to make it without falling down. I don't follow after her. I just watch as she leaves... The weirdest girl I've ever met. Loud, violent, opinionated... and a little insane.

All the girls that I've ever met were polite, and gentle, and they said things to me to try to get me to like them. They would never attack someone with a shoe over something as trivial as a mistaken crush. They would never be tortured with self-loathing for three years for not standing up to the school bully. They would never insult Doumyouji Tsukasa to his face, knowing what he's done and what he's capable of.

This girl...

"Tsukasa..." Rui's standing at the entrance of the emergency staircase. That half sober, half drunk girl had just shuffled off from there. I wonder if he saw her? "Akira and Soujiro are bored with the graduation party," Rui informs me, "They want to go to a club now."

I don't care about any of that. "Rui, did you see a girl just now? She's in white with brown hair?"

"Yeah," he nods, and doesn't say anything else after that. Typical Rui.

"Well, do you know where she's going?" This guy seriously frustrates me. He never says more than what he deems necessary. I feel like I'm playing 20 questions whenever I talk to him.

He answers in his usual deadpan, "Not a clue." His eyes narrow. He has this searching look on his face. I hate when people try to figure me out. "Her name is Makino," he says, "She's a really interesting girl."

"You've spoken to her?" Don't ask me why, but I suddenly feel really, really upset and angry. Like I could punch something. Or some_one_. Like Rui, for example.

"Many times," Rui confides, nonchalantly, which only serves to make me angrier "She used to come out here everyday after school, screaming about how much she hates this place." He studies me some more and after a moment or two he finally says, "Tsukasa, you look like you're about to hit me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't, though," Rui's tone is so casual that I feel like laughing out loud. You don't ask a person not to deck you in the same tone of voice you ask for the time. But that's just Rui for you, I guess.

"Rui, I must be more drunk that I thought," I tell him, the anger I was feeling starting to dissipate, "That girl... She's filling my head. I can't think about anything else right now."

"Is that what it is to be drunk?" he asks, "I don't know. It sounds a little bit like love to me."

"Shut up!" I growl, angrily. Damnit, Rui. Don't say things like that. Don't say things like that because then I'll start to think about it too much, and before you know it, I'll be convinced that I love her. But I don't. She's not my type. I just met her. She's out of her mind. I'm too good for her. We have nothing in common.

"Actually, the two of you have a lot of things in common," Rui comments.

"H-how did you know what I was thinking?" I demand, shocked.

"Um... you just said it out loud," he explains, his expression a little puzzled.

Did I?

"I suppose you're right about Makino, though," he says, thoughtfully, "You'd probably not get along with her. You have a little too much in common. She's violent, and temperamental, and big mouthed... Oh, and she's a virgin like you. Although I suppose that might not really be a prob-"

"Don't talk about that!" I snap, agitated. Soujiro and Akira bring up the fact that I'm not a male slut like them nearly everyday. If you ask me, they're a little _too_ interested in my sex life. The last thing I need is for _Rui_ to be getting on my case about it too.

"Sorry, Tsukasa. I didn't know it bothered you so much," he says, already heading back into the building through the glass doors. Rui always does things without explanation. He doesn't say 'let's go'; he just leaves, assuming you'll follow but not caring if you don't.

I'm a couple of steps behind him, "Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Okay," an odd smile is spread across his face. He's stopped moving and is just looking at me like he wants to say something. It takes a few seconds of his creepy staring before he finally does, "Your eyes are a lot like Makino's".

* * *

This was inspired by volume nine of the manga, when Doumyouji left for New York, and Tsukushi was reflecting on how he'd changed her. She was able to become stronger by rebelling against his bullying.

I guess the main point of this story is that Tsukushi and Doumyouji needed each other to change themselves. Tsukushi was repressed and Doumyouji was a douche bag. Without each other, they would have just continued living unhappily.


End file.
